What if when John asks Mrs. Thornton to speak to Margaret about the incident at Outwood Station, she is more forthcoming about the Hale family secret?.

John Thornton could not believe his eyes. Margaret Hale, his Margaret embracing a young man, in public, at night, partly obscured by the shadow of the station platform waiting room. They were both clinging on to each other, clinging for dear life, silently, still, as if they were listening to hear their hearts beat in unison. Thornton stared, glared at them, the shock evident on his face. He has dreamt of this vision so many times, but with her clinging to him, and not this slight, elegant and handsome man. This was not his vision, no, oh no, this was his nightmare; Margaret in the arms of another man.

Love, they say, hopes all things.

He had dared to hope that their renewed friendship after his failed proposal will let her see him as a possible suitor. He was determined to be agreeable to her and perhaps, he could one day renew his suit. The apparition before him slammed the door shut on hope. This was probably why she turned him down. She loved another, secretly. John could not tear his eyes away from the sight that was breaking the remnants of his shattered heart. She was facing him, her eyes closed, her head tucked beneath her lover's neck. John willed her to open her eyes, and as if she could hear him, lifted her lashes and saw him. Margaret locked eyes with John, stiffened and gasped. John's chest seized up in pain as he struggled to breathe. Her lover turned round and they both looked at John who now had the most terrifying scowl ever emblazoned on his face. He looked at them again; anger, disgust, pain, and disappointment, oh yes, and jealously written all over him, and he marched, almost ran out of the station in long quick strides.

Love, they say, does not envy.

As he gathered his thoughts, he could not believe that Margaret could be so reckless as to embrace a strange man in a public place at night. Someone once said no man is offended by another man's admiration of the woman he loves; it is the woman only who can make it a torment. Margaret doesn't love him, but she loves another who loves her back, and it is excruciating. Their mutual affection and display is highly improper. Her mother died last night yet she was able to have a secret assignation the very next day. He must have misjudged her character. Somehow, something doesn't ring true.

Love, they say, does not rejoice in iniquity.

This is not the Margaret Hale he knows and spent hours with in her house, who reproached him for his work practices, then protected him from a vicious mob, no, his eyes and his head are not in agreement. As for his heart, that is another matter, his heart loves Margaret Hale, completely, totally and unconditionally, and there is nothing, absolutely nothing, that his eyes or his head can do about that.

Love, they say, endures all things.

The police inspector who came to report Leonards' death after Mrs Hale's funeral returned to tell John that Margaret had denied ever being present at the station. Falsehood. This was another aspect of her character that he did not expect.

Love, they say, rejoices in the truth.

There had to be an explanation for this. John reasoned that she must have lied in order to conceal her secret trysts from her family. Perhaps this lover was not favoured by her family, he decided. She had mentioned there were other suitors anyway. The Hales had been behaving strangely lately. John remembered that Margaret would not let him in to their house the other day, because she said "Mama was unwell and Papa was not receiving visitors", yet he knew they had visitors because he could hear voices upstairs and he saw a man's carpet bag and cap in the hallway. Yet, another falsehood!

The coroner said Leonards had died from alcohol poisoning, so John could stop the inquest with a clear conscience. He would not want the Hales to go through a public interrogation in which her indiscretions would have just kept the Milton grapevine churning. The town had just about stopped talking about the riot and she now goes and reignites the flames. So frustrating.

Love, they say, does not behave rudely.

The next time John went to Crampton, Margaret tried to thank him for his kindness in stopping the inquest. She looked so vulnerable, so tired and pale, that one part of him wanted to draw her to himself and hold her there and comfort her. The other part, the jealous part that dominated him in that moment decided to let her share his torment, therefore, he scolded her for her behaviour. He demanded an explanation, and when he saw that a suitable one was not forthcoming, he temper flared.

Do not think I intend to renew my attentions towards you. Any foolish passion I might have had for you is over, John spat out at her and stormed off, and glanced back to see her look as if she would burst into tears any moment now. I no longer love you, he said to himself over and over, confident in the knowledge that he should stop loving her, he could stop loving her, he will make himself stop loving her. He gave her one last look, shook his head in disbelief, muttered an oath under his breath as he went up two steps at a time to his lesson with Mr. Hale at the Crampton house.

….

Hannah Thornton hates Margaret Hale for breaking her son's heart. She promised to hate her on behalf of John. Her own heart broke when he sighed to her after the rejected proposal ."No one loves me,-no one cares for me, but you, mother, he said.' She put her hands on his shoulders; ….. looked into his face;….. made him look at her and said: 'Mother's love is given by God, John. It holds fast forever and ever. A girl's love is like a puff of smoke,-it changes with every wind. And she would not have you, my own lad, would not she?" When John declared that he could not stop loving Margaret, Mrs. Thornton replied, "I am the mother that bore you, and your sorrow is my agony; and if you don't hate her, i will."

Mrs. Thornton had heard the servants gossiping that Miss Hale was seen in Outwood Station with a strange man late one night. The grocer's assistant was sure it was her, and he told the police that one rough looking fellow had a fight with Miss Hale's companion, and it drew some attention to them.

Love, they say, thinks no evil.

Mrs Thornton spent the hours after dinner, in her thoughts, working on her embroidery, waiting for John to come home. Surely, John will stop loving her now that she seems to have a lover, Hannah said to herself. He can now get over this affection, this attachment of his. It is odd though, why the man was not at her mother's funeral. It must be a secret engagement. Perhaps that explains why she rejected John's proposal. She could hardly be attached to two men at once. At least her handsome and eligible son will finally look for a nice Milton girl to marry, someone like them who was not haughty, proud and disagreeable as Miss Hale.

…..

So, what do you think of Xanthppe? John…eh John, about Xanthippe?… Mr. Hale called John out of his reverie.

I'm sorry, Mr. Hale, what was the question again?

Petrucchio likened Katherine in the Taming of the Shrew to Xanthippe, Socrate's wife. Xanthippe had quite a temper on her, and it was said she once emptied a chamber pot on him in rage and she engaged him in intellectual debates, and that was why Socrates loved her….Mr Hale continued.

John responded, "well, I have no experience in these matters sir, but I don't know why Petrucchio would want to tame Katherine to conform to his tastes in the first place. It is maddening that men would wish to change their wives, when they should seek the ones that cope with their tempers to start with". "…..May I have Margaret as my Xanthippe sir, to have these intellectual discussions with though I will have to do something about the chamber pot…" he added silently and smiled.

As John came out of his foray into another daydream and saw the strange look he got from his tutor, a rush of pink stained his cheekbones all the way down to his neck and he looked away quickly, mortified and wondering how much of his thoughts he did say out loud when Mr. Hale asked him, " what… about Margaret?

"Yes, sir", he blurted out, "I was wondering if Miss Hale would be joining us this evening?" knowing fully well that he had asked that question twice already.

….

Mrs. Thornton was now pacing the drawing room, waiting for John to return from Crampton. He poured himself a glass of brandy, brushed his lips on her forehead and plumped himself down on the sofa next to his mother with a sigh.

"Did you hear that Miss Hale was seen at Outwood Station with a strange man last week"…she started? All the servants are going on about it. That one….. she can't seem to distance herself from scandal and gossip. John, did you hear me… what do you think? John, what do you say? I think she turned you down because she had this secret lover. Well, that explains it all, for no one can turn down my handsome son… most sought-after man in all of Milton. I'm no longer angry with her for rejecting you, but I wish you could forget her. Yet, her actions are so improper. I can't believe her father lets her behave so. All that scampering across town to the Princeton district and gallivanting with that Union man Higgins, just makes her undeserving of your regard….

"Mother, you know I just can't stop loving her"….John countered. "I've tried, God knows I've tried."

"I know son, I know, but you have to try harder", Hannah responded.

Love, they say, never fails.

John tells her everything; Hannah understands everything. Mother and son are so close. She even seems to be able to read his mind. Without words, with one look, she can discern his mood, his temper, his thoughts. That had never bothered John in the past. All his thoughts were of the mill and the business. Lately, he has been pre-occupied with Margaret, and John is not so comfortable with his mother knowing his thoughts for she would surely be scandalized to discern what he thinks of when he thinks about Margaret Hale. On that note, he slowly crossed his long legs and silently cursed his body for betraying him at the most inopportune time.

"Mother" he said, "I think you should talk to Miss Hale about her conduct. She needs to be censured about her behaviour, and I feel it is best coming from a woman."

"Well", Mrs Thornton replied, "I did make a deathbed promise to Mrs. Hale to guide her daughter. I suppose I have to make good my word. She's so obstinate and outspoken and reckless. I will go and see her."

"Thank you Mother", John sighed.

…

Margaret felt really sick, tossing and turning all night for the past week, unable to sleep, unable to forget Mr. Thornton harsh rebuke "…..any passion I may have had for you is over….". And she deserved it. Her mother had just died, and all she could think about was Mr Thornton's bad opinion of her. It just didn't make sense.

"Mrs. Thornton is here to see you, Miss Margaret," Dixon said as she came into her room, rolling her eyes upwards. "She is in the Drawing Room. I'll get the tea and cakes" and with a disapproving look, she closed the door gently behind her.

Margaret tided herself in the mirror and dragged her feet down the stairs and resolved in her mind to be brave as the door to the Drawing room loomed near to face the biggest scowl in all Christendom.

"Thank you Mrs. Thornton, for coming to see us," she said perhaps a little bit too airily. "I hope you are well. How is Mrs Watson? I haven't seen her since the wedding. Dixon will bring the tea and cakes up shortly. Thank you very much. Papa has gone to the Lyceum. We are expecting Mr Bell tomorrow…" Margaret could not stop talking…

In her forthright abrupt manner, without any sentiments, and without any hesitation, she interrupted, "…Miss Hale, I made a promise to your mother that if I ever saw you doing anything that was not right, I would counsel you as if you were my own daughter. Well here goes…I heard that you were in the company of a gentleman late at night at Outwood station without a chaperone. Miss Hale, this is highly improper. What do you have to say for yourself?"

Margaret began.. "I am very sorry Mrs. Thornton. I did act improperly…."

Hannah countered…"you should have a good explanation for what happened. I'm waiting."

"I don't know what to say Mrs. Thornton, I am so sorry. I just …."

Hannah continued "…. It seems to me that you do not feel obliged to say anything. I am not one to poke my nose where it is not wanted, but there are consequences to your actions, which are far reaching. You have to be responsible. You are a lady, you are unmarried, surely, you must be aware of how bad your situation is."

Margaret just nodded silently, and stared down at her hands in her lap.

"Miss Hale, I see you are determined to be stubborn about this. I am not sorry you rejected my son anymore. You don't know the kind of man you rejected. I felt sorry for his sake for he loved you so strongly and I encouraged him to propose to you, for I thought you cared for him. You broke his heart, Miss Hale. Now that I see you that have a secret lover, and such a man would not care for your reputation, but compromise you in a public place, I am glad that my son is not attached to you, and he is not going to make you my daughter!"

Margaret temper flared and as she was about to retort when she realized she just could not find the words. She hiccupped and just broke down first in sobs, and then she started to cry. She sank to the floor on her knees, cupped her face in her hands and bent over her lap and just wept. Mrs. Thornton did not know what to do. She looked up to see if Dixon was around and became increasingly uncomfortable with this display of emotion. Yes, she was angry with Margaret, but she did not expect her to react as such, wailing in this manner. Dear Fanny does have tantrums when she doesn't get her way, but they were rare, and were never with this emotional.

Hannah knelt down and moved near to Margaret and touched her arm, and as if a dam burst, Margaret rose and clung to her tightly and wept openly on her breast. Hannah put her arms around the younger woman's shoulders and pulled her closer and let her wail on. She realized that the poor girl has been holding on to so much grief and there had not been anyone to comfort her. Her cousin and aunt were not able to come for the funeral, and her father looked so frail. It was evident that she had to be strong for him and even for Dixon. Poor girl. She was so young. Hannah could not imagine her fanciful Fanny having to deal with such tragedy, and she pulled Margaret closer.

Oh…exclaimed Dixon as she came in with the tea and found both ladies on their knees with their arms around each other and Margaret silently sobbing. Miss Margaret…she started… but Mrs. Thornton looked at her and nodded to leave the tea and then dismissed her.

Dixon was fuming.

Who does this woman think she was to be the one to comfort Miss Margaret like this, she asked herself as she shut the door behind her. "Miss Margaret is a Beresford. Mrs. Thornton is in trade. They now have to make friends with the Thorntons just because they were in reduced circumstances. Why did Mr. Hale ever bring them to Milton?… Dixon muttered to herself as she ambled down the stairs to the kitchen.

As Margaret became more aware of her surroundings, she looked up and started to apologize to Mrs. Thornton, then they both got up, brushed their skirts down and sat on the sofa.

Mrs. Thornton asked softly, "is this man going to marry you then…? Do you have an understanding? … Does your father know about him? What can you tell me about him? How can I help you?" All the questions just rolled out non-stop.

Margaret just shook her head and started to cry again. Hannah was shocked and confused. "Have you been jilted by this man? Please say something, Miss Hale… Margaret.. say something."

Margaret whispered hoarsely, the pain clear in her voice, "Mrs. Thornton, I don't know what to say. It is so shameful. I am so ashamed…so wrong. I don't know what you must think of me. Mr. Thornton is so angry with me. I can't bear it. It is so hard. Oh God, what he must think of me. Oh Mrs. Thornton, I don't know what to do. I am so very lost. Oh dear me…"

Please tell me what happened, Margaret, tell me….

"Mrs. Thornton, we have the worst scandal ever that you could ever think of. I can't tell you. Whatever modicum of goodwill you have for our family will surely be lost if you knew the burden we bear. Please believe me, the man at the station was not my lover. I can't say more, but we are not lovers. Please understand… please try to understand." Margaret's lower lip quivered as she rocked back and forth and groaned as if she was in physical pain.

Mrs. Thornton sat back in her seat, shocked for she has seen that look before, and heard that cry of pain before, so she reached out and clasped Margaret's hand in hers and whispered to her, I understand what you are going through, more than you know. She has indeed seen that look before, in the mirror, eighteen years ago, when her husband took his own life and brought the family into debt and disgrace, ruination and reproach, stigma and shame. John was a young strapping lad of fourteen and studying in a prestigious boarding school and precious Fanny was but an infant. Life changed irreversibly.

The Thorntons lost everything. All their property was taken over by the Crown. Suicide or self-murder was feared by their strict Victorian society. It was disgraceful, immoral and illegal. The only way to prevent the Crown from taking over their property of suicides was to say George Thornton was insane when he took his own life. However, they could not take the chance of a hereditary insanity plea as both John and Fanny would have problems finding spouses in the future. The only other option was to lose all their assets to the Crown and become poor, and they took that. He could not even be buried in consecrated ground. Family, friends, neighbours and acquaintances distanced themselves and they had to work their way back to respectability and acceptance in society. During those dark years, Hannah had no one to turn to. She was alone, isolated and ostracized. She had to be brave for John and John had to be brave for her in turn. Dearest Fanny was too young to understand what was going on. Hannah had to develop a thick skin and buried her emotions deep, so deep inside that it startled her as they erupted slowly, surely and steadily back to the surface. As she watched Margaret, her own eyes began to hurt, and then fill up with tears to saturation and then overflow on to her cheeks, first in drops, then in a steady flow, to a continuous torrent which became now unstoppable.

"My husband took his own life.".. Hannah began, with a trance-like stare… "so Miss Hale, I know what it feels like to be the source of gossip. I know what it is like to be the greatest scandal in town for years on end. I know what it is like to suddenly move from wealth to poverty due to someone else's choices. I know what it feels like to be a leper, to bear the plague, to be a stigma. I know the look of pity and the look of fear; the loud whispers and the pointing in the street; the silence when you enter a crowded room and the noise when you leave it. I know what it is like to be judged by God and be judged by man, Margaret, I know, I understand, more than you could ever know."

There was silence in the room. You could hear a pin drop. You could hear a feather drop.

"The man at the Outwood Station was…is my brother", Margaret whispered, His name is Lieutenant Frederick Hale. He left for the Navy eight years ago, where he had a cruel captain who mistreated all the crew. Frederick became implicated in a mutiny and is now a fugitive. There is a bounty on his head, and if he is caught, he will be court-martialed and may be hanged. He has to live in exile. He came in secretly when my mother was dying to see her for the last time. I had to take him to the station because my father was distraught. Leonards, the draper's assistant from Helstone where we used to live recognized him and made the trouble at the station. Fred pushed him off, but he did not kill him. When the police inspector came to question me, I feared for my brother that he could be caught so I had to deny being at the station. Mr. Thornton saw me that evening and knew of my falsehood, but we could not confide in him because he is a magistrate. I could not jeopardize his standing in the community for helping a fugitive to the Crown. I also had to protect my brother. I'm so sorry Mrs. Thornton," Margaret cried.

Hannah listened in silence, bewildered, surprised. This was not what she expected to hear.

"Where is your brother now?" Hannah asked.

"I don't know. He will write to us when he gets back to safety. For now, it is unsafe to talk about him" Margaret replied.

"You have to tell John, you know that" Hannah said. "You can trust him. When my son loves someone, he loves them completely. He cannot love by halves. It is not in his nature"

"Oh no," Margaret gulped, "I don't want Mr. Thornton to know about Fred. I don't want to put him in an awkward position. He has done so much for us, much more than we could ever repay. I know he does not hold me in any good regard, but I have to bear it for my brother sake, Mrs. Thornton. It is unbearable that Mr. Thornton thinks so badly of me. I don't know what to do"

"Margaret Hale, you are still protecting my son," Hannah said. "You did it on the day of the riot as well. You protected your brother. You protected the mill workers. You are protecting everyone, at the risk of your own reputation."

"Now tell me, who is looking out for you?" Hannah queried

"Who is looking out for you, Miss Hale?"

"Margaret, will you let me fulfill my promise to your mother to look out for you?"

Margaret nodded gratefully. Hannah smiled and held her close, then rose up and poured the tea for both of them.